


How I Love You So.

by Haydenn11



Series: Good Omens Greatest Hits [11]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Takes Care of Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley likes being taken care of, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sick Character, Sick Crowley (Good Omens), Song: Now I'm Here (Queen), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haydenn11/pseuds/Haydenn11
Summary: 11. Now I'm HereCrowley felt awful. Truly. His stomach was rolling and cold sweat formed on his forehead and clammy hands. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was sick, but he did know better. He didn’t get sick. It was very undemonic. He may not be sick, but kneeling on the marble floor of his cavernous bathroom, clutching the rim of his toilet, was forcing him to reconsider going to dinner with Aziraphale like he had planned.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Greatest Hits [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069535
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	How I Love You So.

**Author's Note:**

> Two uploads in one day! Here's a short one. I wasn't busy today so I typed it up quick :)  
> I read that Brian May wrote "Now I'm Here" while he was in the hospital (or short thereafter) after getting sick on tour. I was inspired by that and wrote a little bit of fluff where Crowley gets sick and Az takes care of him.  
> I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, comments and feedback are always appreciated. :)

[Now I'm Here by Queen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KTGC0Fm7us&ab_channel=Queen-Topic)

* * *

Crowley felt awful. Truly. His stomach was rolling and cold sweat formed on his forehead and clammy hands. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was sick, but he did know better. He didn’t get sick. It was very undemonic. He may not be sick, but kneeling on the marble floor of his cavernous bathroom, clutching the rim of his toilet, was forcing him to reconsider going to dinner with Aziraphale like he had planned. 

Crowley sat back on the floor and leaned against his bathtub. He fished his phone out his back pocket and dialed Aziraphale’s number. It rang several times before an answering machine picked up. 

“Hello. You’ve reached A.Z. Fell, bookseller. If you are hearing this message, then we’re most definitely closed. Unless we aren’t. I may be helping a customer. For a full explanation of our hours of operation, please see the sign posted on the front of the shop, which I realize is difficult to do over the phone. You are, of course, welcome to leave a message, which I will respond to at my earliest convenience, which is of course dependent on our hours of operations, which vary. Again, for a full explanation, see the sign out front. Good day.”

Crowley rolled his eyes throughout the unnecessarily long greeting. It was a good deterrent for customers, but highly annoying to Crowley in his present condition.

“Angel,” he said after the tone, “S’me. I have to cancel tonight. I’m not well. I’ll call you later.”

Crowley hung up and slumped over onto the floor. His head was spinning. He felt hot and cold at the same time. All the lights in his bathroom were too bright and too loud and too painful. He wanted to move to his bed, but that would require moving. Crowley wasn’t sure he could do that without vomiting, so he stayed where he was. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed on the floor, but after a while he became aware of slamming doors and footsteps in his apartment. The footsteps drew closer until the door to the bathroom opened and Azirpahle entered. 

“Oh, my dear.” He said, taking in the view of Crowley sprawled on the floor, sweaty and shivering. “You look terrible.”

Crowley squinted up at him, “Thanks, angel. Just want I wanted to hear.”

“Well this is hardly your most glamorous look. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Ngh!” Crowley groaned. “Floor good. Moving bad.”

“Oh, pish posh.” Aziraphale bent down and lifted him off the floor as easily as if he were a baby. “Come now, dear, I’m here.”

Azirapahle carried him to bed, laid him down on the silky black sheets, tucked him in, and kissed his sweaty forehead.

“Oh, my dear!” He said with his lips still pressed to Crowley’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“M’fine. Stop fussing.”

“You’re not fine. You’re ill!”

“Demon’s don’t get ill.”

“They most certainly do!” Aziraphale made an exasperated gesture at him, “Case in point!”

“Well, how do we make it stop?” Crowley groaned, clutching his stomach. 

Aziraphale sighed, “Bed rest, I’m afraid. Human medicines won’t work on you, so there is nothing to do but wait for it to stop.”

“Ugnh. That’s not very comforting.”

“I can make you a cup of tea. Would that be more comforting?”

Crowley thought about it for a moment, then nodded. 

Aziraphale got up, made him tea, miracled a couple of novels from the bookshop and laid next to him in bed and read aloud. Crowley sipped his tea and alternated between sleeping and moaning about his stomach. 

The next day, he felt marginally better. His head was less hot, but he still felt weak and shaky. Aziraphale ran him a bath and washed his hair. Then he helped Crowley dress in clean pajamas and tucked him back in bed, before laying next to him and running fingers through his damp hair. Crowley was warm and content, and thinking that he really ought to get sick more often. 

“How are you feeling now, dear.” Aziraphale asked. 

“Oh, just peaches, angel.”

“Is that more sarcasm?”

“Only a little bit.” Crowley shrugged and snuggled closer to his angel. “I really am feeling much better. Thank you for staying with me.”

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head in response and Crowley closed his eyes to fall asleep.

On the third day, Crowley woke up feeling spectacular. He rolled over to tell Aziraphale, but he was alone in his bed. He padded out into the kitchen and found the angel busying himself over tea and toast. 

“Morning, angel.”

Aziraphale jumped at the sound of his name, “Oh dear! Look at you up and about. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m like a new man, angel, you made me live again.”

“I’m not sure I did that much. I think the illness just ran its course.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, “Oh no, angel, you did a lot. If it weren’t for you, I would still be on the bathroom floor.”

Aziraphale patted his cheek and gave him a chaste kiss before handing him a steaming cup of tea. They sat at the breakfast bar and Crowley sipped his tea while Aziraphale ate his toast. He liked having Aziraphale here in the mornings. This thing with them was still pretty new and he didn’t always know where it was going. But, looking at the angel in the early morning light of his kitchen, he knew that whatever became of them, he was happy to have his angel here now, and that felt pretty good. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Tumblr!](https://haydenn.tumblr.com/)


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